


A Feast for the Senses.

by springburn



Series: Dr Who mini fics and prompts [14]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Love Stories, a date with the wife, the five senses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 18:19:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5753455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springburn/pseuds/springburn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and River are on the balcony looking out at the Singing Towers.....</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Feast for the Senses.

**Author's Note:**

> This one shot is taken from the final scene in the Christmas Special. "The Husbands of River Song."  
> Some of the dialogue is made up, some is taken from the actual words they speak. 
> 
> The story concentrates on the using of the Five Senses..... Sight. Hearing. Taste. Smell. Touch. And a little nod at the end to a possible telepathic connection as a sixth sense. It is almost entirely a sensory piece. 
> 
> Hope you like it.

A FEAST FOR THE SENSES. 

"How long does a night on Darillium last?"

"Twenty-four years!" He could barely keep the wry smile from his face. 

"Ha!........I hate you!"

"No you don't!" Their eyes locked. 

oOo

Side by side they stood on the balcony. Looking out.  
Shoulder to shoulder.  
Silent.  
Neither quite able to adequately process their thoughts, or make sense of them. 

As they watched, the sky began to gradually change colour, like a chalk sketch on a pavement in the rain.  
Prisms danced and flickered on the walls behind them as the sun's dying rays caught beads of evening moisture.  
Puffs of candy floss cloud scudding across their field of view, moved by a zephyr breeze high up in the stratosphere.  
Oranges and golden yellows melding into rich reds, crimsons, then purples, as the sun sank lower.  
A shimmering mirage, a floating tangerine, balanced for a few seconds against the line of the solid landmass, before slipping below and slowly disappearing, as if being swallowed up by a gaping maw. 

A flock of birds wheeled across and between the two Towers. Silhouetted stark and black against the horizon, turning and circling as one.  
The twin monoliths soaring up like two gnarled and pointing fingers, rugged and prehistoric.  
Giant stacks of Jenga sculpted and shaped by the winds and the sands of time. By sun and rain, fire and water. Millions of years in the making.  
Little by little, strange non spherical moons began to appear, suspended in the darkening blue of the heavens, along with tiny stars, like pinpricks in cloth, twinkling and winking.  
A magic lantern show on a colossal scale. All there just for the two of them.  
She turned to look at him, aware that his gaze was fixed now, upon her. 

His eyes took her quite by surprise.

She could see a longing. An inherent sadness and regret, the mourning of a great loss, of something never to be replaced.  
There existed an open and unhealed wound. A look he tried valiantly to conceal.  
Memories spanning the Universe, both past and future, hidden depths. Vast and uncharted. Paths as yet unexplored. 

As his previous self; the one she'd married, the man she'd allied herself to without a moments hesitation; they had been two windows into his soul. Ancient beyond comprehension, staring out of a youthful, boyish face, all chin, a sweet young man. Now, it seemed she was witnessing the very opposite.  
This incarnation, whilst being no less mesmerisingly beautiful, was soft and puckered, like a comfy jumper, lined and careworn, yet the eyes that stared out of this face were strangely young, childlike, eager and almost innocent.

The colour of sea foam. 

Were they swimming with tears?  
"Are you crying?"  
"No! It's just the wind."  
"Nothing's ever just the wind!"  
He turned quickly away, scanning the horizon now, pretending to take in the view. Jaw set and tense. Breathing shallow. 

A gentle breeze swept across the rocky plain, ruffling their hair.  
Her blonde and his silver curls, teased by its breath.  
From out of nowhere there came a sound. It began as a deep melodic thrum. A vibration that could be felt in the sternum.  
A bass vibrato from the diaphragm of the very planet itself. It rose and gathered it's strength, swelling and filling the air around them with a sweet and tremulous overture. 

A siren song.  
Sweeping across the open ground, a wave of glorious melody, falling then lifting, an aria from the Gods.

The Towers were singing. 

Nature's music.  
A symphony which captured the heart and held it fast, stilling its beat, robbing the lungs of breath, arresting time itself. Just for the merest moment. The blood that coursed in the veins, slowing, pausing, so that the only sound the ear could catch, would be that perfect chord. 

"The music! It's beautiful." River whispered, finding her voice at last. 

"The wind blows through the cave system, harmonises with the crystal layer." 

"Why are you sad?" She hardly dared to ask it. 

"Why are YOU sad?" 

Before she could reply, the flock of birds, in an unbroken skein, a sinuous V formation, flew right over them, heading East. The sound of their calls to each other and the beat of their wings, punctuating and complimenting the last reprise, as the choral evensong died away. The last note hanging in the cool air, before fading just as it had begun, into a guttural throaty hum. 

River gave an involuntary shiver.  
"Here. This will warm you."  
The Doctor passed her a flute of champagne, retrieved from a tray on the table just behind him.  
She took it with a slight smile. His long fingers wrapped around the stem of his own glass.  
They clinked, and sipped.  
"There are stories about us you know?" She murmured, moving a little closer.  
"I dread to think."  
"I look them up sometimes." Her voice trembled.  
"You really shouldn't do that."  
She could taste the champagne in her mouth, the bubbles fizzing and popping on her tongue.  
A sparkling effervescence that made her almost giddy with excitement.  
It mingled with the tang in the air. A slight saltiness that spoke of unseen oceans, deep and dark and restless.  
There was an earthy flavour, tangible and real. Like the dirt on a potato. Sandy and gritty, borne on the wind, it was there on the lips, dry and saline, melting into the sherbet sweetness of the alcohol.  
She smacked her lips together, with satisfaction.  
"You wouldn't be trying to get me drunk, would you Doctor?" She teased.  
"Perish the thought!" 

From the restaurant behind them came faint murmurs of pleasant voices. Muted laughter. The chink of cutlery on china.  
Strains of a violin, from a string quartet, rich and mellow, melting through the arcade of fairy lights, which formed a proscenium archway, leading to where they now stood. A fragrant waft of delicious things to eat, that made the stomach grumble in anticipation. Savoury and sweet, a subliminal olfactory tease, fit to make one salivate.

Day slipped into evening, soft and velvet, and with it came the scent of the night.  
A dampness. The vague promise of rain.  
Clouds building, and rumbles of distant thunder. A crackle of lightning, illuminating the Towers, with a silver blue light, turning them into menacing figures stark against the sky.  
At the sound she drew closer to him instinctively. Her glass and his set aside.  
She could feel the soft cloth of his suit. His silken lapel. The tickle of his neck bow against her cheek. 

His scent. 

Glorious. Undeniably male. Unique to him.  
An aromatic musk, with just a hint of citrus, enticing and seductive.  
One hand resting against his chest. The thud of his two hearts beneath her fingers.  
She raised her eyes to his, trying to keep control of her stirring emotions.

"My diary is nearly full, Doctor. I worry."

"Please don't!" 

His tone was flat, melancholy, he pulled gently away from her, turning to look towards the looming columns again, as the darkness gathered.

"Some of the stories suggest, that the very last night we spend together is at the Singing Towers of Darillium. That wouldn't be true would it?"

"Spoilers!" He whispered. 

There was a metallic cluck from his double gold band, as his hands clutched the railing directly in front of him. His knuckles white.  
She did the same, her hand, adjacent to his but their fingers not touching. 

River almost scoffed at the irony, using her word. Firing it back at her as he had.

"That would explain why you kept cancelling coming here.......do you remember that time when......"

"River! Stop! Just stop! Please......." His face registered pain. 

"I want you to know, that I expect you to find a way round it........" 

"Not everything can be avoided........it's a painful lesson, and I've had to learn it over and over again and very recently." His hand moved to the left, closing over hers. 

His skin cool, so different from her own. His bony fingers clasping hers, each digit, long and elegant, with neat shapely nails, his knuckles a row of nubs where the skin stretched tight. 

"River......" He murmured. 

"But you're you!" She said suddenly, her arms flying around his neck. "There's always a loop hole...."  
Their faces were inches apart. His breath sweet against hers.

"Every night is the last night for something........every Christmas is last Christmas......" 

"But you'll save the day......you always do........" Tears began to fall from her under lashes silently.

"No I don't ! Not always. Times end. Because they have to. There's no such thing as happy ever after. It's just a lie we tell ourselves because the truth is hard." The bitterness in his voice stung.

"No! Doctor! You're wrong! Happy ever after doesn't mean forever." She swallowed thickly, a tender hand stroking his face.

"It just means time. A little time." 

Her lips found his, the gentlest of kisses. Fire and ice.  
With a sigh, he sank into her as though melting, tasting her warmth, moving into her, drawing her closer, his hands splayed against her back, holding her firmly in place against him.  
She teased his mouth with her tongue and he opened immediately to allow her access, a slight mew coming from him, such as she never heard from his previous self.  
Intent on each other.  
The fingers of her left hand curled at the nape of his neck, his hair there was baby soft, his skin so sensitive underneath her fingernails. The other resting on his slim shoulder, feeling the fine material of his jacket and, through it, his angular collarbone protruding sharply.

It was several more minutes before they broke apart, she gasping for air, he almost overcome with emotion. 

"When the wind stands fair, and the night is perfect, when you least expect it........but always when you need it the most........" 

His voice hitched, and he pursed his lips tightly together as he fought for the control he required to continue. 

".......there is a song."

"So! " She replied gently, " Assuming tonight is all we have left......."

"I didn't say that........"

She renewed her assault, forcing his head down to meet hers. Capturing his mouth again in a desperate bid to hush him. Slow and sensual, tasting him. Pouring her heat into him, life affirming, thawing, infusing him with her strength and her passion. 

"Don't say anymore. I don't need to hear it." She breathed. "Just kiss me, Doctor. Kiss me with all you have." 

And he did. God help him.  
Allowing everything to fall away, all the pain and the trauma that had led him to this point.  
The deep sorrow which even the Tardis had attempted to assuage.  
Lost in this moment......with his wife. 

Standing there, on the balcony, locked in their tryst.  
Worlds could crash and burn, crumble to dust, and still they would remain, oblivious, fixed only on each other, and the solace they both derived.  
Together, as one, a conjunction both of body and mind.  
A roll of thunder, a lightening flash rending the sky, soaking rain finally forcing them to take cover. 

Running inside, drenched and breathless.  
Laughing, all sadness forgotten, just for a short while.  
Postponed.  
Healing and renewal and love.  
One night on Darillium.  
Where he could lie in her arms.  
A night that would last for twenty-four years. 

He was owed that much, and so was she.


End file.
